


Change Is Good...

by xxsilverlist



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I Tried, I blame the trailer, M/M, Natasha is attached to her hair, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov Friendship, appearance change, before infinity war, you know which trailer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 04:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13182156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxsilverlist/pseuds/xxsilverlist
Summary: "I like it," Clint shrugs, fingering the silver strands. "It suits you."Natasha smiles, cocking her gun. "It was time for a change."





	Change Is Good...

Natasha stared at the limp, greasy red strands stuck to her face sucking in breaths as much as her bruised ribs would allow her to. The image in front of her painted an ugly sight; uniform torn at the sleeves and hips, a bullet wound bleeding from one shoulder, dirt and scratches almost everywhere else on her person.

She grits her teeth and uses tweezers to tear out the bullet quickly pressing a towel to the wound to stop the bleeding. She works as quickly as she can stopping every few moments to push dirty hair off her shoulders and face.

Twenty minutes later she cuts the string and the bullet wound is sewn shut. Natasha lets out a sigh, long and low as she slumps against the bathroom wall smiling to herself as she hears Sam sing to himself. Always so positive even after a mission gone wrong.

It was getting harder and harder each time going out into the world. There was a warrant on her head (as if there weren’t any before but now Shield isn’t her to give legal protection) coming straight from 117 nations. She couldn’t even go out to buy some cheap red lipstick to keep up appearances.

This shit hole her and Sam were stuck in was the last step to getting to Wakanda, to re-joining Steve and James in blessed sanctuary. At least if they could make it to the rendezvous point tomorrow evening without getting stopped by the police, angry locals, enhanced Accord defenders… really the list went on and on.

 

“God damnit!” She all but screams punching what was rest of the mirror into bits and pieces ignoring the bloody knuckles it gave her.

A heartbeat later and Sam burst into the tiny bathroom shirtless with a pistol drawn. Natasha can’t help but feel bad, upset that she startled Sam into thinking she was in trouble. She picks up a larger shard of glass and looks again in the mirror.

“I’ve become a walking target,” She whispers pushing red strands out of her face. “My hair was my mark that something dangerous was coming, now… now it makes it easier for them to pick me off.”

“Don’t say that Nat,” Sam says gently, laying the pistol on the sink. “It’s my fault I shouldn’t have dragged you out here, I should’ve taken some of T’Challa’s men—”

Natasha quiets him with a quick kiss leaving him stunned while she goes into the bedroom and rummages through her bag taking out a shiny pair of scissors. She walks back into the bathroom and unzips her suit past her shoulders, it was useless now tattered and torn to ribbons. “Cut it off.”

 

In the months since Natasha decided to join Sam, and Steve she reminds herself, in Wakanda her hair had grown down her back never a chance for her to cut it into something more fashionable. Now her hair was back to its original curls and back to bright auburn. It seemed so long ago now, almost ten years, the last time she had her hair this way. It was more practical being an Avenger to keep it short and easy to maintain the longest she’s had it in these ten years was shoulder length.

 

“Cut it,” She says again pressing the scissors into Sam’s hands.

For what it’s worth Sam looks surprised and genuinely upset that Natasha just asked him to cut off all her hair. “Nat… why? Its so long and gorgeous.”

Natasha makes a sound in the back of her throat, turning her face around so Sam won’t see the emotion roll through her. She had grown fond of it in recent weeks. The hair isn’t what made her though and it had to go.

Instead she lifts her head and presses another kiss to Sam’s cheek, taking his face in her hands. “If you don’t cut off my hair so help me god I will leave you in this shit hole and you can find the rendezvous point by yourself. I am a target with this hair everyone knows that the Black Widow has red hair, at least with it short I can stuff it up in a cap.”

Sam gives a small smile, presses his lips to her forehead and for a brief moment Natasha relaxes and curls into her lover. She savors the moment and she will savor it until they are back in the Palace in an obnoxiously large room with an even grander bed that her and Sam will refuse to leave for at least a week.

Sam turns her gently around pressing kisses to her neck and shoulder, uncaring of the dirt and possible dried blood. “You sure you want to cut it all off? I could cut a little and you could dye the rest of it, there’s bound to be a beauty store in the city.”

“No!” She hisses even as the rational part of her mind tells her it’s the best thing to do. People out here know the Widow has red hair but they don’t know what she really looks like, especially with colored contacts and brighter clothing.

Yet the thought of dying the red hair that had been her one vanity the one thing that was unchanging of her… she can’t not yet.

“Just cut my hair Sam, please.”

“Okay.”

 

She watches the locks of red hair float around her mixing with blood in the sink, on the floor. Its just hair she reminds herself, it’ll grow back. One day.

 

“There that’s as much as I’m cutting off, I don’t want to fuck it up,” Sam says quietly stepping away from her.

Natasha pick up the shard again and studies her reflection. Her hair is right above her shoulders now, not as short as she wanted but it’ll do. It’ll let her live another night.

“Shower with me?” She says turning to face Sam, already unzipping the rest of her suit.

“In that tiny thing? We both won’t fit in there,” Sam shakes his head but he’s smirking, taking a step closer to Natasha.

“All the more fun,” Natasha tries to smirk but she feels hollow inside, an aching feeling telling her she’s going to have to give up more in the coming days, weeks, hell even months.

 

*

*

*

*

 

Natasha stares at the box of bleach and hair dye set on the counter of the too large bathroom in her too large suite in T’Challa’s palace. She doesn’t want to look at herself in the mirror, if she does she knows she’ll finally have that breakdown that Stark says was coming after she decided to come over to Wakanda.

 _Damn him_ , she scowls to herself swatting the box of dye into the sink. _Damn him for being right_.

“Hitting it won’t make it like you Nat,” James says softly peering at her from the tub where a warm bath was waiting for her.  

Nakia nods quirking her lips, “Best to get it over with quickly that way you don’t think so much about it and its less painful.”

Natasha gives a short laugh, “The way you guys talk about this it sounds like I’m getting a tattoo or having a finger chopped off.”

In a way she would be chopping off a piece of her but that was for a different day to think about.

“Are you ready?” James asks and this time he stands, blue eyes staring into her soul in a way that unnerves her, like he can see just how scared she really is. He knows her better than anyone, he probably knows she’s on the verge of tears. Yet she was one of his closest friends and him hers.  

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” She sighs, sitting into the chair Nakia had dragged over from the suite. “Change is good right?”

James nods picking up the box while Nakia starts combing through her hair. He should know a lot about change with the life he’s lived. Natasha gives him a quick smile and he returns the favor, maybe when this is over they can go cry to Steve and bully him into having a movie night in the Royal theater complete with takeout and junk food.

 

 

Natasha refuses to look at the mirror.

She doesn’t look after the bleach is set.

Not even after the platinum dye is applied, or during the forty minute wait time. In which James and Nakia bring her fruit and a bottle of vodka.

She doesn’t look when she gets into the bath leaving her hair until right when she’s about to get out.

Natasha keeps her eyes trained on her feet as Nakia cuts the remaining inches off because if she’s going to have a makeover she’s going to do it properly. She may take a few more shots of the vodka than necessary when she sees a stray silver strand land on her toes.

 

“There you are ready,” Nakia says quietly shutting off the blow dryer. Natasha waits until the warrior leaves to finally look up.

Her hair is so blonde its practically silver except for her roots which have remained dark. She juts out her chin, turning her head this way and that admiring the way Nakia cut the bob. It falls against the hollows of her cheeks, making her face pointed.

She likes it.

 

Later that night Steve gives it a tug and gives her a sly smile before settling into James arms, and her settling into Sam’s. Natasha smiles widely, now she just needed to show Clint. The biggest judge she has in her life.

*

*

*

“I like it,” Clint shrugs, fingering a lock of silver hair between his gloves. “It suits you.”

“It does doesn’t it?” Natasha says quietly looking over a hill. Clint rolls his eyes but nods nonetheless, its all the approval she needs from her best friend. She locks eyes with her target giving a signal to Clint. She’s decided to keep the silver hair longer than she intended too, she was growing fond of it. She cocks her gun, aiming it at the trees. 

He shoots off an arrow a scream coming from the bushes, in a few seconds those damned aliens will come running out of the jungle and the fight will begin but right now she looks at Clint and smiles widely.

She was still the Black Widow, red hair or not. Now the last thing her enemies will see before they die would be silver hair and green eyes laughing.

A gun fires, the fights begun.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! Comments welcomed, kudos appreciated :) 
> 
> Note; I wrote this mainly because I know a lot of times people change their hair according to emotions or big changes in their life. (I did a bunch of times, especially after a break up) So I figured Natasha changed her hair for practical reasons along with emotional ones.


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